


we’re not what we used to be (but let’s be what we are)

by intoxicatelou



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Banter, Breathplay, Bruises, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Kink Discovery, Kink Exploration, Light Dom/sub, Pain Kink, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Sounding, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:36:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27487405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intoxicatelou/pseuds/intoxicatelou
Summary: The first time Nebula touches him, it’s day six.
Relationships: Nebula/Tony Stark
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32
Collections: Femdom Exchange 2020





	we’re not what we used to be (but let’s be what we are)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [toucanpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/toucanpie/gifts).



> title is a lyric from the song "10/10" by Troye Sivan.

The first time Nebula touches him, it’s day six. Tony only knows the count because he’d recorded it in his log before sitting down to try and rewire the heating in the main cabin (again). They were only getting colder each day they spent floating aimlessly in space because space, to no surprise, is very, very, cold. It didn’t help that every hour the little power they did have was slipping loose, some side effect of broken engineering. Tony’s doing his best to not think about the probabilities of home, or eventual doom, or any of it, really, just doing his best to focus on the task at hand, red blue green wires and some weirdly shaped alien tech. He can learn this, he’s a mechanic. Tony Stark fixes what he breaks. He can fix this, he can. They’ll get home. Him and Blue meanie. And soon, Tony will devise a way to get the kid back. He promised he would the second Peter had disappeared. Somehow the taste of ash is still fresh at the back of his throat, but he’ll bring the kid back. He might split the universe but it’s Peter, he has to. It’s his damn responsibility. He failed but he’ll fix things — 

“Tony,” Nebula shouts and her fingers dig into the meat of his left shoulder, stopping its tremors with a firm hand. 

“Oh,” Tony gasps, blinking back the darkness swirling at the edge of his vision. He hadn’t even registered the panic attack this time but the ache in his chest could be nothing else. 

“Are you…okay.” Nebula states more than asks, her voice still a little flat and uncertain. Tony hasn’t known her for long but he can tell she isn’t exactly a conversationalist, though over the last week or so, he’d been successful in poking her out of her cerulean shell at whatever consisted as “meal time” for them. 

“Of course. I’m fine, peachy keen.” Tony says, after he takes a moment to catch his breath. He does his best to put on his best bullshit smile, hoping that Nebula hasn’t studied him enough to pick up on the difference. 

“Your breathing was irregular.” Nebula says, squeezing his shoulder harder before standing up abruptly and walking to their makeshift pantry. 

“That just — It’s a human thing. Seriously, it’s okay, I’m fine.” Tony fumbles over, his mind still reeling from the panic attack and the sudden sting of pain in his arm, its slightly dizzying after effect. 

“Drink.” Nebula commands, ignoring him, and throwing a pouch of water into his lap. 

“I’ve already had my ration for today —“ 

“I will recalculate my portions accordingly.” Nebula interrupts, and Tony blinks. “You need to drink.” 

If Tony didn’t know better, he would say she sounds almost gentle. 

“Thanks,” Tony says, quiet as he unscrews the lid of the pouch and swallows the water. It feels good, stabilizing, even with the stale taste. 

Nebula doesn’t say anything, just nods staunchly before walking away to the other side of the ship. 

Tony waits till she’s out of earshot to pull down the neck of his henley, his breath hitching as he takes in the slightly purple finger bruises, perfectly spaced. Tony knows it's terrible how much of a work of engineering she is like this, her hands not really hands, molded by her father to hurt. 

Though Tony knows better than to assume her tendency to violence. He wouldn’t be alive if she was truly the weapon her father had tried to make her out to be. Her fingers had cleaned and stitched his abdominal wound, and had helped to get this hunk of space junk past the horizon. 

Everyday they were keeping each other alive. So yeah, Blue might be a little rough around the edges, but she’s got just as strong of a capacity to heal as she does to hurt. 

***

He doesn’t really think about the bruises again. Not until he’s cleaning off the stale sweat of his body with the spray shower, and he runs a hand over his shoulder a little too hard. He hisses in surprise as the pain sparks a shiver straight to his… cock. 

“Oh god, no,” Tony groans, banging his head against the metal wall. Sure, he likes things a little rough now and then, but being semi-stranded in space wasn’t exactly the kind of locale where one could safely indulge in such selfish desires, at least not without a willing partner. _Didn’t someone mention she was nicknamed the biggest sadist in the galaxy…?_ Tony thought abstractly, before shaking his head. Nebula had just stopped glaring at him every time they spoke. He couldn’t derail their progress just because his silly human body craved touch. 

He survived without it in Afghanistan, he can survive without it now. 

Tony sighs, staring at that part of him upstanding despite the clawing ache in his stomach, and in the end, it's the angry growl of his hunger that forces him to imagine dead puppies and will his half mast erection away. 

He can’t risk passing out in the dingy space shower because of the killer combination of low blood sugar and an orgasm.

Tony winces, imagining how pissed Nebula would be if she found him like that. They were running short on first aid supplies, amongst other things. Last thing she'd want to do is stitch him up again. He’d already used up her ration of water and no matter how blue and mechanical she looked, Tony had spent enough time with her to know that underneath it all she was still warm blooded, that she still needed food and water and rest to survive. 

Though her father’s forced modifications did make her far more efficient regarding those resources —

“ _Stark_ ,” Nebula’s voice barks through the door, as do the sharp rap of her knuckles against the door. Right, Tony had told her to remind him when his five minutes of precious shower time were up — they couldn’t afford losing more heating water, either. 

“Thanks for the alarm, Blue.” Tony calls out, before wrapping a towel around his waist. 

He steps out of the tiny bathroom, giving her a cursory smile before walking to their shared closet. Not that Tony has many clothes to begin with, but luckily the ship had some shirts that were salvageable, if not fashionable. 

“I hurt you,” Nebula states loudly, her voice blank and Tony blinks, almost dropping the towel around his waist.

“Excuse me?” Tony inquires, turning around. He had no idea he was still being watched.

“I. Hurt. You.” Nebula repeats, and this time Tony finally sees where her eyes are zero-ing on, the almost perfect violet fingerprints on his left shoulder. 

“Blue, that’s a little dramatic, even for you.” Tony says, shrugging it off. “This is nothing.” 

Despite Tony’s nonchalance, it seems Nebula isn’t convinced. 

“Let me see.” Nebula says, not really asking as much as doing, taking the three steps to burst Tony’s personal bubble, her cold blue fingers skating over the marks, pushing just slightly at the indentations. 

_Fuck,_ Tony thinks as he gasps at the sensation, the shiver it sends down his spine. 

To his surprise, Nebula takes a step back. She crosses her arms, “You’re lying. You’re in pain.” 

“Fine,” Tony concedes, trying to conjure the image of a golden retriever being run over by one Thanos’s giant space donuts, “A little, but it’s not a bad thing.” 

Nebula looks at him strangely, “Pain is always bad.” She says with thinly veiled rage. “I would know. My father stripped me wire by wire when I wasn’t up to his standards. He made my sister watch.” 

“Jesus,” Tony says, his eyes widening. “Okay, non consensual torture is bad. Very bad. But some light consensual torture… doesn’t have to be.” 

Nebula cocked her head at him. “Light... torture?” 

_You’re talking to a space mercenary, Tony. Maybe torture isn’t the right word to use,_ his brain unhelpfully supplies, despite the heat bubbling inside him at seeing Nebula look at him so analytically. 

“Sometimes,” Tony says, swallowing around his dry throat. “It feels good to hurt.” 

Nebula pauses, as if considering the words, weighing them in her brilliantly smart mind. Then, she steps closer, and Tony can’t help it -- his cock twitches traitorously underneath the thin towel. 

He’s just about to apologize for the situation, when she meets his eyes and demands, “Show me.” 

***

Tony starts her off slow. She doesn’t undress totally, even though Tony told her she could, if she wanted to. She just shrugs off her jacket, so Tony can see all of those gorgeous blue arms, the mechanical genius of her left one never failing to amaze and anger him. She’s wearing a v-necked body armor of sorts, fitting in a way Tony can’t believe he is just now noticing, the dark color of it contrasting beautifully with her shade of blues. 

His cock’s more than half hard now, lying on her bed, just watching her watch him. 

“Let’s start with choking,” Tony suggests, tilting his head back. “Focus on the sides and not too hard, since you’re not actually trying to kill me.” 

“Sure I’m not,” Nebula says, joking with a humorless laugh, and wow, does he like that snark. 

“I trust you,” Tony murmurs as he watches Nebula’s left hand inch up his chest. 

“You shouldn’t,” She responds, but Tony knows that’s Nebula-speak for _I know, Stark_ and then, the cool of her palm is wrapping around his throat. 

It’s dizzying how easy it makes him, his eyes shivering close as he feels his air circulation falter. Somehow, she’s holding with just the right pressure, already attuned. He knows his cock is filling up, knows that Nebula is watching as he feels a warm finger trace the outline of him. 

She must be timing it closely, because before he can tap out, Tony’s gulping in air again, stars pin pricking in front of his eyes. 

“17 seconds,” Nebula says, running the same finger up and down his cock, teasing and causing him to leak. “That’s all it took, Stark. To unravel you.” 

“Fuck,” Tony curses, as he watches her hand wrap around him firmly before stroking hard. His hips jump to meet the motion but then her other arm is _stretching_ to push him down by his chest. 

“I didn’t know — I didn’t know you could do that.” Tony stutters out, as she continues to work his cock, relentless. 

Her fingers pop wider and with no pre-amble, dig into the bruises of his left shoulder, and Tony feels his full body shiver, the first bloom of his orgasm roaring loud inside him — only to have Blue’s other hand freeze around his cock in a vice, stopping him from slipping over. 

“Not yet,” Nebula commands, and Tony blinks the slight mist of tears from his eyes. 

“Okay, Blue,” Tony says, once he catches his breath, Nebula’s hand retracting back to her. “Ready to try something else?” 

Nebula gives Tony one of his favorite deadly smiles. 

***

She’s a natural, is the thing. And Tony guesses, she would be, given the things she’s seen, the havoc she’s caused. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since she tied his hands to the metal headboard, ripping one of his good shirts to do so, what time has passed since he stopped having to give instruction, instead letting her tease him how she wanted to. His ass feels raw against the sheets from when she spanked him, cold and precise every time, leaving him begging everytime. 

He’d already come once, with three of her spit soaked fingers in his ass, and his cock was half hard and wet against his stomach, come drying on his skin. Nebula hadn’t kissed him once on the mouth, though she had dragged her mouth over his neck and nipples when he’d come, biting and teasing, and it somehow made it worse and better at the same time, being pushed to his limits like this by her. It made him feel like he still had something to earn. 

“Anything else I can do for you, Blue?” Tony asks, more than a little breathless as Nebula continues to press her palm against his balls, making him gasp. 

“Actually,” Nebula says, her voice sharp as always, “There is something I’d like to try.” 

“Go for it,” Tony says, but then his voice catches in his throat as he watches Nebula’s left arm shift again, until a thin metal rod stems from her wrist. She pulls it out of herself with a slight hiss, her arm closing back up, and then holds it like a wand, tracing the surprisingly warm metal up and down his half hard cock. 

“Don’t tell me…” Tony says, unable to restrain his whine. It’s been so long since someone had used a sound on him, but the memory of what it had felt him was still fresh in his mind. 

“I saw it… on a hologram somewhere. I’ve wanted...to try,” Nebula says, continuing to trace him with the metal, her fingers coming to wrap around his cock, and then without taking her eyes off him, she’s sliding the sound in with a precision that makes Tony’s eyes roll to the back of his head. 

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck,_ ” Tony curses, and it feels better than he remembers, the metal sliding in and in until it stops, making that painpleasure swell inside him like a tide. 

It doesn’t take him long to feel the tears clumping his eyelashes, making him sob as Nebula just holds him there, running her warm finger over the tip of his cock, until he feels like he’s tripping right at the edge. 

“Please, Neb-Nebula,” Tony gasps out, wetly, “ _please,_ ” 

“Okay,” Nebula grunts, and then she’s pulling it out of him, fast and squeezing down with her other hand, and Tony’s coming like he’s been starved of it, back arching off the bed, spilling over her hand, his stomach, some of it even sliding onto the bed. 

When he comes back to himself, it’s with Nebula smiling into his mouth, a soft lick against his lips, a whisper of a kiss, her warm hand moving up and down his face, his hair, as if petting or consoling a wild animal. 

It makes tears bubble in Tony’s chest all over again, the kindness exuding from the woman on top of him, and for the first time in a long time, Tony feels safe. 

“We’ll make it home,” Nebula mutters, unexpectedly generous. She'd untied his arms and Tony let them wrap around her, sagging into her touch. 

They might be stranded, running out of supplies, but at least Tony wasn’t alone. At least, there was someone to poke, touch, tease. Someone to share the grief with, no matter how unconventional their methods. 

He can feel Nebula’s wetness against his thigh through the thinness of her leggings. And Tony vows to take care of that, to give her even a slice of what she’s given him, once he catches his breath. But for now, he sinks into Nebula's embrace, the room silent except for the staccato fast beat of her heart. 


End file.
